Born To Die
by A. Alice-LaCasse
Summary: He wished he could be more than what she needed. He wished he could be what she wanted. Season 5. Fem!Merlin. Merdred, one-sided Merthur.
1. Prologue: Reunion

_Written due to my Merlin withdrawals that are quite frankly driving me mad. This is my way to remedy the said madness. Hope you'll enjoy!_

* * *

**-Born to Die-**

**One: **_Reunion_

_[Merlin]_

Her mother always told her that it was simple things in life that defined us as humans. For Merlin, things like fighting sorcerers, saving her beloved kingdom, and living a life of a servant were things that defined her. It was not a easy life by any means; in fact, her life was often cruel and dark, filled with despair and anger. In a way, it was a vicious cycle, and Merlin often doubted that it would ever truly end. However, not once had she ever regretted her life, nor her service to Arthur or Camelot. For a while, she was haunted by the lives she took, by people she had killed with her own two hands to protect her home. But she grew to accept the idea and the burden of performing such deeds after so many years.

Life, it would seem, was all about moments. One of the fondest, most remarkable memories in Merlin's memory was the day she watched Arthur get crowned as the King of Camelot. She remembered very well the feeling of pride that surged through her body once Arthur took his seat on the throne as the rightful ruler of the lands.

So it was at that moment when a clear, sharp voice cut through the air did Merlin's heart skip a beat. It was unquestionably a male voice; low, yet oddly soft, demanding presents but only because to her ears it was hauntingly familiar. She heard it only few times before, seemingly many years ago now. It was nowhere near as deep or as soothing back then; instead it was more boyish, shy almost. She could still remember his voice gently echoing in her mind, strangely soothing because she was in the presence of another just like her.

But he was different now; older, handsomer, and still just as powerful. She could feel his supressed power wrapping around her and Arthur as he approached them, her own magic meeting his midway. It was a familiar feeling – their magic had connected once before, back when they were both still young, creating an unbreakable bong between them. She should have known better than to expect them parts ways like that after everything they've been through.

Last time they met, she betrayed him. Last time they met, his eyes stared down at her with anger and accusation, for she not only betrayed him but also others of their kind.

It was unforgivable. And so were his parting words to her: "_I shall never forgive this, Emrys, and I shall never forget!_"

His promise was dark and full of rage, eyes swimming with betrayal when he spoke her druid name, a name that was a sign of her destiny. Back then she felt guilty, she even feared that she would be the one to blame if he decided to kill Arthur after all, just like Kilgharrah told her he would all those years ago. Just like she saw in the vision shown to her by the dying druid.

_Arthur's Bane._

He approached them steadily, and their eyes met, everything else fading. Her breath suddenly got stuck in her chest, his eyes capturing hers and holding them in place as he spoke. "Shouldn't we leave it to the Lady Morgana to decide their fate?"

His eyes the same mesmerising mixture between blue and green finally moved away from her, breaking their staring contest. Air seemed to fill her lungs, and a shaky breath escaped her lips, her eyes immediately following him as he moved to approach Arthur.

Merlin tensed immediately, her guard snapping right up, her lips parting as if prepared to mutter the first spell that came to mind if she needed to protect Arthur. This boy – _man_, she reminded herself instantly – approached Arthur carefully, offering his hand to the fallen king. Merlin's fists clenched, mistrust flooding her system as she glared holes into young man's back.

He was taller than her now, his features pleasantly round, once straight black hair now a soft mane of curls that seem to add to his almost innocent appearance. He was dressed in dark clothes, most likely for making blending in easier. They were also abnormally warm, far warmer for this kind of climate. Clearly, he was dressed for travels up North and for going to places much colder and darker than here.

Arthur only hesitated for a split second before accepting the offer of help, and letting the man in front of him hoist him up. Merlin still didn't let her guard down even though there seem to be no immediate danger.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he spoke lowly, noting the confused look on Arthur's face as he stared at him. "You saved my life once, many years ago."

There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by Merlin's almost breathless acknowledgement.

"_Mordred."_

* * *

**AN:** _Short, but this is more of a teaser to see if any of you are interested. This is obviously Merlin/Mordred because I loved their interaction during all seasons. However, I believe a lot would have been different in Season 5 if Merlin had accepted Mordred instead of shunning him the way he did. (In fact everyone but Morgana would have probably lived). This is exploration of that 'what if'. What if Merlin wasn't so quick to judge? What if Merlin gave Mordred a fair chance to prove himself?_

_Also since I find gender-bending quite interesting to write, I decided to try doing a Fem!Merlin. Hope it's okay so far._

_Another thing: for the sake of this story the age difference between Mordred and Merlin is only four years. _

_Regards._

**_A. _**


	2. Whatever I Am, You Made Me

_I don't think I have ever been so excited about a story, and I certainly have never written a second chapter a day after I published the first one. But thank you very much for the warm welcome everyone! Glad to see all those Merdred fans out there, it warms my heart! ^^ We get some Mordred this chappie as a Thank You!_

* * *

**-Born to Die-**

**Two: **_Whatever I Am, You Made Me_

_[Mordred]_

Mordred could only smirk when he heard her speak his name.

Perhaps, it was the thrilling knowledge that she still knew him, even after all these years, she was able to see past his appearances and simply _feel_ him near her. Or maybe it was the sound of his name spoken by her that shot excited tingles down his spine.

It's been years, but she was still his Emrys. Still as beautiful, and as majestically powerful as before. In fact, she was even more powerful then before, her power making the air around them sizzle with authority. There was so much of it that Mordred felt like he was drowning, but if he was to die he couldn't think of a more pleasant way to go.

She had matured as well, her body now developed and full, her ears still slightly too big for her face adding to her unusual beauty, framed by a pair of most stunning blue eyes that captured and enthralled him when he was still but a child.

However, there was something else too, a change he did not like.

Emrys looked _tired_, defeated almost, her innocent blue eyes now haunted by tragedies she had seen. Her gaze felt heavier, more demanding, her eyes glued to him as he turned his attention back to Arthur.

"Hello Arthur," he greeted the king pleasantly.

Arthur was a good man. A man that saved his life when he was young; an act of kindness Mordred never forgot.

"_Hello Emrys,"_ he also added in his mind, knowing that she would be able to hear him. Her mind was still just as open to his magic as his was to hers.

So he couldn't help but to take great pleasure in watching her go rigid, her glare intensified to a point he could almost _feel_ it burning his skin with its destructive touch.

How no one else noticed her breath-taking power, he did not know. It seemed so obvious to him; there was always something about her, pulling everyone, animal and human alike, to her. Including him.

Even after her betrayal, he never forgot her.

Back then he was so angry – no, _furious_ – for her betrayal, the crippling knowledge that she practically spat on their friendship, the sacred bond they shared. Did she not feel it, he wondered back then, the intensity of their connection, intertwining them together forever. But he was young then, and with time he began to realise that he was far too harsh in his judgement, because while, yes, she did betray him, he also understood why she did it. After a while he forgave her, realising only then how much he really missed her.

He missed her voice, her eyes, her smile, her very presence in his mind – he missed all the little things that made up his beautiful Emrys. He never stopped considering her his. From the moment their minds connected all those years ago, he knew that there was far more meant to happen between them than just a fleeting meeting.

So he ran, learned to control his magic, in hopes that one-day he would be able to come back and seek her out again, apologise and start over again. A few times, back in his darkest moments when he was about to lose all hope, he used his magic to catch a glimpse of her, and make sure that she was safe. That she was still out there on this Earth, waiting for him to find her one-day.

He had fantasised about this moment many times before, gone through countless scenarios in his head, trying to work out what he would say once they were reunited at last.

However, he never expected it to happen like this. To find Ragnor's tugs pointing their filthy weapons at her and the King of Camelot.

For a single moment, absolute rage overcame him. And it took everything in him to not snap and shatter the man's arm with his magic for daring to point his weapon at her.

He managed to supress it, somehow, letting his magic boil and swirl angrily under his skin. He gave them a first excuse he could think of, using Morgana's name to save them both.

Then, their eyes met and Mordred was lost in her gaze, their magic dancing and fusing together before he had to take his eyes away from her in order to control his emotions.

"Mordred…the druid boy…" Arthur spoke in realisation, his eyes sharp as he began comparing the young boy he'd saved appearance with that of a man before him now.

Arthur hadn't changed as much as Emrys had. In fact he looked almost the same physically, however the air around him was different now, wiser and more commanding. He held himself like a King should, his eyes full of compassion but also sternness. There was something formidable about Arthur that Mordred couldn't help but to admire, and he was about to smile at the king until from the corner of his eye he noticed Ragnor's men coming closer towards them with ropes in their hands.

Mordred's attention turned to his Emrys for a split second, wondering why she wasn't doing anything to escape. It was only then did he notice a look of fear and doubt in her eyes as she quickly glanced from the approaching men to Arthur. A sinking realisation came over him, and he realised that she hadn't revealed herself to Arthur yet.

Arthur still had no idea about her magic.

He toyed with idea of telling them to try and run for it, but it would be useless since Ragnor and his men had horses that were exceptionally fast and durable. He knew that better than most.

He stood silently behind them as three men tied the rope securely around Arthur's and Emrys' hands, tying them to the horses so they wouldn't escape. Mordred tried not to look, but his hands that were folded behind his back were clenched so tightly he briefly thought he could hear the sound of his own bones cracking under pressure.

He wished he could do something, _anything_, to help them escape, but he couldn't do that without giving himself away as well.

He only hoped that they would come up with some plan to escape by themselves.

The journey was long and the further they went up north the colder it became. Mordred wrapped the thick scarf he wore around his head, blocking the chilling wind. But it wasn't his wellbeing that concerned him. Some time after they moved out, Emrys and Arthur were tied to a wagon that was pulled by a few horses and held their supplies. He was ahead, walking on foot so he could keep an eye on his sorceress. He seem to be aware of every sound that left her chapped and slightly blue lips, each noise making him turn around and make sure that she was uninjured and well. Neither her or the king were dressed warmly enough for this kind of travel, and it was easy to tell that they were starting to struggle with the drastic drop in temperature as well as the freezing snow that surrounded them.

They were discussing something, he realised when he turned back to look at them again. Their voices were low, and even though she was talking to her King, Emrys never took her eyes off him, her gaze searching as she observed him.

He was curious to know what was going on in her head. What did she see when she looked at him?

"_Halt!_" Ragnor ordered loudly.

Mordred immediately snapped his attention to the leader, trying not to draw any attention to Emrys or Arthur.

But it was futile as Ragnor stormed past Mordred and slammed his fist painfully into King's side, causing Arthur to release a sharp gasp. Fury flashed in Emrys' eyes, her jaw clenching visibly as she half-caught Arthur in her arms. Her anger and disgust in the man was visible as she held onto her King protectively, her shoulders squared and eyes dark with emotion.

"You speak when you're spoken to!" the leader barked furiously, his features twisting threateningly. He looked back at everyone else, _"Faster!"_

Mordred carefully controlled his emotions, thinking that if that man had hit Emrys instead he would now be missing an arm.

She glowered at Ragnor while he brushed past Mordred, and their eyes met again, the fire in them intensifying. He loved having her eyes on him; it was impossible not to feel her gaze regardless of what emotion was shining in them. And he craved them all, from hate to love, from disgust to trust.

_Your fault_, they said now, _it's all your fault_.

But he couldn't understand her anger or coldness towards him. He had done nothing wrong; he hadn't harmed Arthur or her, yet the mistrust radiating from her was almost tangible. He tried not to show how deep her coldness cut him, and how much he wished it could be otherwise. Even though he hadn't done anything to her, she seemed to hate him already for some unknown reason. But he was going to change that, and get back into her good graces somehow – he would not leave her or Arthur to suffer.

So it was only after they started moving again, did he send her a message, a message he knew she would hear as clearly as a day.

_I'm sorry, Emrys._

* * *

**AN:** _Hope you liked it, lovelies!~ I hope you also enjoyed a peek inside Mordred's head. I loved writing his chapter a lot, and I hope you liked it too. :) Once again, thank you for your reviews, they were all lovely, and a lot of you also seemed to agree with me on the unfairness of Merlin/Modred relationship. That's nice._

_Regards._

**A.**


	3. We Share the Same Reflection

_Can I just say that I kinda love and hate you guys. Hahaha. I mean you're all great, but this story has completely taken over my brain and it's not even my most popular story. I think I'm starting to spoil you all with giving you an update each day. xD But thank you very much for your support. Also, few people have mentioned trying to turn this into M-rated, more plans and ideas about that can be found below. Also, sadly, this is another character development chapter, but plenty of action next chapter. Promise!_

* * *

**-Born to Die-**

**Three: **_We Share the Same Reflection_

_**[**__Merlin__**]**_

It was getting dark by the time Ragnor decided to stop and rest for the night.

Merlin and Arthur were stuck sitting on the freezing snow, far away from the warm comforts of the burning fire.

Merlin sat with her legs pulled up against her chest, her hands almost numb from the cold. The thin layer of clothing she wore did nothing to keep out the bitterly cold North wind at bay. So she was left with trying to warm herself by rubbing her hands together in hopes that she wouldn't freeze to death. Arthur was by her side, having fallen asleep about half an hour ago from exhaustion. The fact that he was abale to fall asleep in a pile of snow both confused her and amazed her at the same.

But she couldn't fall asleep, not only because it was so cold, but also because she didn't trust these men enough to rest and let her guard down.

They were all sitting around the fire, eating and laughing at something their leader said. Mordred, she noticed, was practically silent, his food untouched as he occasionally met her gaze over the fire. She would be lying if she said that he didn't confuse her, or made her feel anxious. In fact, compared with the rest of them, Merlin could feel no malice coming off him.

He wasn't dark like the rest of the men that had captured them, and Merlin wondered how he ended up working for them in the first place.

Just how did he end up being a _slave driver_ of all things? And more importantly, why did he apologise to her?

When she felt his magic brush against her mind, the last thing she expected was to hear an apology. But what was it for, she wondered. For not helping them? For their brutal treatment? For taking them to Morgana?

"What are you gawping at?" Ragnor suddenly spoke, pointing his sword at her and snapping Merlin out of her thoughts. She looked away, trying to keep her expression neutral and don't give the poor excuse of a man any satisfaction in seeing her weakness.

Ragnor stabbed a loaf of bread with his sword raising it mockingly for her to see, "Is this what you want, darling? _Catch_."

He threw the bread at her and Merlin almost instinctively leaned forward to catch it, but it landed on the ground few feet away from her, causing Ragnor's men to laugh tauntingly, few even sneering in her direction.

Merlin's hands turned into tightly clenched fists as she turned her eyes away from the revolting men.

After few seconds of silence, she felt _his_ eyes brush against her as his voice floated over, "Maybe we should feed them," he suggested calmly, causing Merlin's eyes to slide back to him in surprise.

"What for?" Ragnor shot back, not even bothering to glance at the man sitting beside him.

Merlin met Mordred's stare evenly, silently wondering what he was up to.

"They'll be skin and bones," he replied steadily.

A faint snort left Ragnor's lips as he continued playing with his sword, "Morgana wants slaves, not hogs for the fire."

Merlin winced slightly at the implication and the possibility that she would have to face Morgana again after so many years.

"Then," Mordred began again as if speaking with a child, "Slow the pace."

"The quicker we get there, the quicker I get my money," Ragnor responded, giving him a terse look.

Mordred didn't argue further, and giving Merlin one last look, returned to staring at the fire again, clearly unable to do anything else for them.

Sighing in defeat, Merlin curled into a tighter ball, and placing her forehead on her knees, tried to block out the cold and drowsiness that were wreking her body.

* * *

It was some time after midnight, when everyone else was long asleep, did Merlin hear a sound of footsteps approaching the spot she and Arthur rested, making her shudder when she raised her head to see who it was.

Unsurprisingly, it was Mordred.

He was leaning on one knee before her, his expression somehow different than before.

Last night his expression was careful and guarded whenever he looked at her, now his stare reminded her more of the first time their eyes met in the clearing; eyes intense and devouring as he drank in her features. It was a lot like the look he used to give her as a child, eyes unblinking and unwavering as he gazed at her.

She studied him with a shrewd look that bordered on suspicious, waiting for him to make his move or saying anything. She knew that he probably wondered what elicited such reaction from her, but warning bells were still ringing in her head and as much as Merlin wanted to believe that Mordred didn't mean them any harm she couldn't let her guard down, _not yet_.

The air around them suddenly turned tense when he moved his hand inside his coat as if reaching for something. Merlin's hands immediately unlocked, prepared to defend herself and Arthur. But instead, Mordred gave her a calm look, pulling out the same loafs of bread he didn't eat last night.

"Do you want them?" he asked softly, offering her the bread while she regarded him warily.

His eyes were honest, and clear, his body closer to hers than it had been in years. She felt uncomfortable having him so close to her, but he was kneeling in position that seemed to block the harsh Northern wind that was blowing at her, chilling her to the bone.

He seemed to notice this too, his eyes narrowing slightly when he noted just how much she was shivering as well how drained she looked.

"Damn it, Emrys," he muttered, and Merlin bristled at his words, shooting a fiery glare his way. A moment later he threw off his heavy coat and pulled a cloak off his body, and ignoring her tense body, wrapped it securely around her shivering frame.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the cloak was still warm from Mordred's body heat, making Merlin groan lowly at the warmness that surrounded her and automatically hug the fabric closer to her body.

"When was the last time you slept? Or ate anything for that matter?"

There was a steely edge to his voice that surprised her. But the fact that he seemed to be _worried_ about her caught her even more by surprise.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice sounding throaty from the cold, and a poof of air escaping her lips when she spoke.

The barest hint of an ironic smile crossed his expression. "He once saved my life. I owe him a debt," he revealed, his eyes flickering to rest on Arthur's peaceful form.

This time the quiet was more awkward than tense. It was hard to believe she was sitting here like this with a man that was suppose to take Arthur's life one day. The moment was surreal, out of place in time and the events of the world. She felt that perhaps it should stay that way too.

"Don't be so quick to judge me," he told her seriously, and leaning closer, titled his head slightly to one side, "You _fear_ me, Emrys, don't you?"

She didn't answer him, but the question remained. Did _she_ fear him? _No_, no she didn't. Because she knew that if it came down to it, she was powerful enough to defeat him in a battle. However, she feared what he could do to Arthur, and she would be damned before she allowed anything bad happen to him.

"I know the hatred and suspicion with which men treat those with magic," he spoke again, almost sadly, seeing that she wasn't going to reply, "You and I…we're are not so different. I, too, have learned to hide my gifts."

She scoffed softly, and thought of a time when he was a boy, when she sought the dragon that lived beneath the castle for advice. "_You and him are as different as night and day, Merlin,_" he had said back when she was so hopeful, so young and naïve. Back then, she only wanted someone she could share her magic with, to do spells and laugh and learn. Merlin had once thought that she and Mordred were _exactly_ alike, but Kilgharrah was quick to kill that hope, with promises that he would kill Arthur when the time came.

So no matter how alike they were, they were also completely different.

"Emrys…"

There was an imploring edge to his soft tone that forced her to meet his gaze. His teal eyes seemed to penetrate right to the core of her.

"_I promise..._ _your secret is safe with me_."

Those words disturbed her far more than they should have. Not because he said them, but the way he said them. It felt like he was swearing his life to her, giving her a vow he was never going to break. She was prepared for anything when it came to him: hate, threats, maybe even forgiveness someday – but not this, _never this_.

"I…I thought you hated me," she said at last, her eyes troubled.

"I once thought I did. But then, I didn't. I understood what you did, and why you did it – I was just a boy, then," he replied. She could tell he had long since prepared that response, most likely waiting for that question long before they started their conversation.

Mordred placed the bread close to her side and got to his feet, turning away from her.

"Wait! What's Morgana looking for in Ismere?"

He stopped and didn't move for a second before turning around and looking at her.

"The Diamair." he answered.

Merlin's brows furrowed, realising that she had never heard of such item, "What's that?"

"In the language of my people, it means _'The Key_'," he explained. And his face dropped when he mentioned his people; she briefly thought of how long it must have been since he last seen a Druid.

"The key to what?" she questioned again.

"The Key to all knowledge…" he gave another small smile before disappearing from her sight and back into the night.

Then with devastating certainty, Merlin realized that there was much more to Mordred that she originally thought.

* * *

**AN:** _Hope you peeps liked it! Thank you for all of those, juicy long reviews some of you have been leaving me (you know who you are!), they seriously make my day each time I find one. First few chapters were set out to show where both Merlin and Mordred stood when it came to their relationship. Merlin is unpleasant and cold to Mordred, while Mordred is in many ways blindly devoted to 'his Emrys'. I hope to grown and evolve that relationship in the future. _

_Also, some of you have addressed the issue of M rating. This story wouldn't be an easy ride, and in many aspects it's going to be rather dark. So while, no, it won't happen any time soon, you can expect this story to move up to M at some point. Merlin and Mordred have an incredibly strong emotional connection that will develop even more during the length of this story. However, I ask that you all remain patient because I **never** rush romance, **ever**. It has to happen gradually in my opinion. That being said, you can expect few saucier moments eventually. ;)_

**Next Chapter:** _The Task That Lies Ahead_ **-** Merlin's and Arthur's escape, slight Merthur, and Mordred being a badass little shit and saving the day.

_Regards._

**A. **


	4. The Task That Lies Ahead

_Bleh!...I admit that I kinda hate this chapter. Probably because I suck at writing any form of action since I can never find right words to express myself so it feels like the chapter doesn't flow as well. Well, I hope you still like it more or less and since I haven't updated in few days this chapter is the longest chapter yet. Enjoy!~ And Happy 2013, everyone!_

* * *

**-Born to Die-**

**Four: **_The Task That Lies Ahead_

_[Merlin]_

Dawn was breaking.

Merlin raised her head and looked to the slopes of snow around them, noting the shift in light through the blindingly white hills with a dull, weary gaze of chronic fatigue. She ran her hands over her face, cringing at the odd numbness of her skin.

Another nearly sleepless night.

She was used to having little to no sleep lately, her destiny resting so heavily upon her that she rarely ever got any rest anymore.

Wearily, she noticed that Mordred's cloak was still wrapped around her, banishing any thoughts about last being a dream straight from her head.

She cautiously unwrapped herself from the soft material, throwing it behind her so no one would notice that she wore it. It would certainly bring more bad than good if someone saw her wearing Mordred's cloak like it was her own.

Merlin shivered when cold air assaulted her, causing her to shudder while she watched everyone wake up and get ready for another day of travel. Arthur began stirring beside her and Merlin watched as he opened his eyes, blinking blearily. Once he realised where he was he immediately sat up, his posture defensive while he took in his surroundings.

"Morning," Merlin greeted quietly, keeping her eyes on Ragnor who was ordering his men around not far from them.

"I would say 'good morning' but it's not really a good morning, is it?" Arthur spoke before glancing at her, "You look terrible by the way."

Merlin rolled her eyes comically. "Thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"Ismere is less than a day away, we have to escape before we reach it," he stated, sounding serious, his eyes focused ahead of him.

Merlin pursed her lips together, eyes narrowing while she tried to think of a plan. For a moment she peeked at Mordred who was standing on the opposite side of the camp, getting ready to depart like everyone else. His eyes were guarded again, his perfectly composed mask back in place. Her eyes observed carefully as he attached his dagger to the belt wrapped around his waist. Her eyebrows drew together, and a small smirk appeared on her face before she turned her eyes to Ragnor again.

"I think I have a plan."

* * *

They travelled for another two hours before Merlin and Arthur began putting their escape plan into action.

They were tied to the wagon again, moving a little quicker than last night since Ragnor was clearly eager to reach Ismere as quickly as he could. Merlin kept her eyes straight ahead, mostly choosing to stare at Mordred's back who had casually picked up his cloak before they moved out and was wearing it again like nothing had happened.

Suddenly, Arthur stumbled before falling to his knees while the wagon dragged him along for few seconds.

"_Stop!_" she yelled. "He needs water."

She kneeled by Arthur's side, only looking up when Ragnor walked up to them. He walked past Mordred who was staring at them blankly, his expression veiled like before. However, his eyes sparked with something more intense when she looked up at him for a split second, their magic brushing against one another like usual.

Ragnor barely spared her a glance; instead focusing on Arthur who was still on the ground, "Get up!"

There was no answer, not even a twitch from the King, until Ragnor kicked Arthur painfully in the ribs. A groan of pain escaped his lips, and Merlin's fists clenched tightly, while she tried to remind herself that this was all a part of their plan and she could not interfere.

Ragnor, seemingly loosing his patience, roughly dragged Arthur back up onto his feet, grabbing the hold of his face tightly.

"Not so much of the great warrior now, are you?" he sneered, letting out a mocking snicker.

"Here. I'll help him," she cut in carefully, her expression composed as Ragnor pushed the King into her arms.

Ragnor sauntered off, jokingly punching few men on the way.

Merlin peered down at Arthur who looked up at her as well, giving her a short wink, his eyes moving down and Merlin spotted a knife he held in his hands, hidden from sight.

The wagon began moving again, forcing them to resume their walking, expect this time they walked with a chance of escape in their hands.

* * *

Merlin was tense even though she knew that Arthur was close to breaking free.

He scratched at the rope with the knife he stole, slowing wearing it down while they walked. Her body hurt, legs aching from having almost no rest last night as well as restless travel. Ragnor was relentless when it came to rest, and had ordered his men to beat anyone who tried to slow down the phase. Merlin sneered at the men that walked around them, controlling her anger so she wouldn't draw any attention to herself or Arthur. They would be free soon anyway.

A few minutes later, Arthur glanced up at her and gave her a curl nod letting her know that he was ready.

Merlin immediately prepared herself for her part. Ragnor had tied her to the main threshold of the wagon where the gates were. That meant that with one good pull it would completely collapse and give them a distraction big enough to escape.

She took a deep breath, and leaning forward allowed her rope to loosen a little before with a vicious jerk, she sent the gate crashing to the ground. The supplies inside the wagon fell with it, smashing and crumbling from the force of the fall.

Merlin had to control a victorious smirk that threatened to spread across her face, instead jumping to stand beside Arthur in a way that would allow her to cut the ropes that bounded her hands.

They stood back like everyone else, watching carefully as Ragnor lead his horse to see what caused the noise as well as the damage it had done.

"Who did this?" he snarled. "_Who?_"

Arthur motioned to her as she spoke up, "We need to rest."

Ragnor jeered at her, jaw clenched as he got off the horse and approached them, taking his sword from the sheath. "Right, you can rest forever!"

He swung, but Arthur was quicker, throwing a powerful punch to his face.

Merlin twisted around and eyes flashing amber, she send a horse galloping away from the battle, while Arthur tossed his knife at one of the guards with deadly accuracy. Merlin hurriedly snatched a battle-axe, and Arthur who was right behind her grabbed Excalibur and a crossbow before they took off without another word. A part of her felt horrible for leaving the rest of the innocent prisoners to face Ragnor's wrath, but she knew that there was nothing she could have done for them, even she couldn't save everyone.

It was a lesson she had learned a long time ago.

She and Arthur dashed through different hills and valleys for a few minutes before they reached a mighty canyon in the snow. It stretched deep into the earth, creating an endless, pitch-black abyss that appeared to be bottomless. She knew that if they fell in it, there would be no telling what was on the bottom or if they would reach it all before they were met with a certain death.

Arthur was silent for a second, and tossing his weapons over to the other side, gave her a look.

Merlin gulped silently, "You're joking," she breathed.

"Do you have a better solution?" he retorted almost teasingly. He ran back and jumped, skidding across the snow and turning to face her, gesturing for her to do the same.

"Come on, Merlin, we don't have all day. You'll be fine, just jump."

She looked back and saw slave drivers closing in on her. If she hesitated any longer they were bound to catch her. Sucking in a deep breath for confidence, she took few hesitant steps back before pushing all thoughts from her head and jumping across the massive gap in the earth.

Air rushed around her for few brief moments before she landed on her feet, hard, the ice cracking dangerously beneath her weight. Arthur was suddenly there, and grasping tightly onto her hand he hauled her up to safety. Quickly letting go of her, he pulled out a crossbow and started shooting the slaver drivers' dead so they won't cross over to their side.

Merlin tightened the hold on the battle-axe in her hands and moved ahead. "I'll make sure they can't get across," she explained briefly before she rushed towards the icy platform ahead.

She glided down the small hill and began hacking into the ice with her battle-axe. And then she felt _him_ before she saw him. _Mordred_. The Druid boy, the one she was supposed to hate, yet didn't.

The boy who showed her kindness.

Her magic called out to his, and his welcomed hers, merging and weaving together pleasantly. Warm and soothing. She grimaced almost painfully, and with last push of strength, her eyes flashed before the ice began cracking and falling into black abyss below.

Merlin scooted back to Arthur, observing Mordred who stood on the other side of the gap.

He did nothing but stare back at them with an odd sort of look on his face; it wasn't frustration, or anger, or even revenge, but acceptance. And perhaps…dare she say it, _satisfaction_? She knew that what he did, chasing them, was purely a procedure, his expression told her. She briefly peered at Arthur who hesitated on pulling the trigger before finally lowering the crossbow to his side.

Mordred gave them one last look, his eyes warming slightly when they rested on her before he turned around and walked away without a backwards glance.

"Why spare his life?" she protested in frustration.

Arthur shot her a look. "He couldn't come after us," he defended.

Merlin sent him a glare. "He was leading us to our deaths," she argued fiercely.

"He showed us _kindness_," he countered, shutting her up like a slap across the face.

Merlin gaped soundlessly for a moment before shutting her mouth, letting it rest in a tight line. Arthur had no idea just how much kindness Mordred had really showed them, especially her.

"You should've killed him," she finally spoke, her voice now lacking the vicious vigour it held before.

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur asked in disbelief, clearly surprised by her bloodlust.

She huffed softly, turning away from Arthur but he grabbed her arm pulling her up with him. "Come on. We need to keep moving."

* * *

The fortress truly was terrifying. The tall, dark towers loomed ahead, a striking contrast to the fluffy white snow that surrounded it. Its daunting size and shadows made Merlin shiver, and for once it wasn't because of the cold. Morgana had no doubt picked out a perfect prison for her slaves and her Saxon army that were no doubt stationed beneath the looming fortress.

It was staring to get dark by the time they reached Ismere, and the falling snow was making the visibility worse, but it was still easy to see the tower in all of its sinister glory.

"You know what they say, Merlin – appearances can be deceiving," Arthur spoke while he walked ahead as if trying to reassure her, even though they both knew that was hopeless.

"Not in this case," she answered flatly, craning her neck to see the whole tower.

She didn't even have time to react when Arthur suddenly grabbed her and dragged her down, making her let out a startled gasp as he pulled her closer towards him. He immediately placed his hand on her mouth, and gestured with his head to look over the small rock that hid them.

She peered over the edge, immediately going rigid when she spotted Ragnor and his men moving up ahead. Mordred was with them and from the way his body was ever so slightly angled in her direction, she knew that he was aware of her presence.

"We'll never make it in there," she muttered with a sigh when Ragnor finally disappeared from their vision, and Arthur released her.

"There's always a way, Merlin," he replied with a slight smirk on his face.

They found themselves in a garbage shaft only minutes later. Merlin almost gagged at the smell as she crawled through the rotten gunk and leftover food, wishing she could have just waited outside and let Arthur go in himself. Arthur was behind her, snickering quietly to himself every time she made a wheezing or coughing sound. Luckily, because of the freezing temperature of Ismere, there were no flies to buzz around their faces and irritate her further.

"How did you talk me into this?" she growled under her breath, crawling up a few inches more.

"It's genius, Merlin," he assured her.

Then, there was a churning sound above her head from the gap in the shaft and a mound of food came plummeting down in front of her, splattering across her face and hair, leaving her breathless and disgusted.

"_Genius_," she hissed angrily, and grabbing some of the rotten vegetables threw it back at the smug King behind her. "I despise you! I sincerely hope you know that."

"You've got a bit of, um... _carrot_ in your hair," he whispered simply, an amused grin on his face, motioning to a spot near her temple. "At least, I hope it's carrot," he added just to tease her more.

She grumbled irritably under her breath, making the king chuckle from behind her as they continued crawling up the shaft.

They finally made it above, both of them panting in relief as fresh air filled their lungs. Arthur recovered first moving silently to the 'window', which was basically just a square cut out of the castle wall. Below them was the courtyard where Saxons moved around, guarding the workers who were carrying different stones from a wagon that was connected to a track.

"Ready?" Arthur murmured.

She blinked in confusion. "For what?"

He grabbed their weapons and tugged her after him. "Our carriage awaits."

They managed to reach the wagon without much problem, quickly jumping in and covering themselves with a blanket before Saxons managed to spot them.

Merlin held her breath when she felt wagon begin moving down into the cave, the sound of iron hitting stone and the grunts of slaves reaching their ears.

The workers came to a stop before moving away from the wagon, giving Arthur and Merlin a perfect chance to escape as they both quickly jumped out of the wagon. They moved swiftly through different tunnels, trying to blend in the shadows and go unseen by the guards.

"This place is crawling with Saxons," she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose in agitation.

Arthur nodded his head while he peered at the tunnel ahead, "Then we'd better make sure we blend in better," he suggested calmly before he jumped to his feet and rushed off before another word could be said.

The first knight they found was Percival much to Merlin's relief. She always had a soft spot for Percival who was always incredibly kind to her and never failed to make her smile when she was upset. She considered him to be one of her dearest friends and was unable to hide her relief in seeing him relatively unharmed.

For a moment Percival looked shocked to see them there, before he grinned happily, and patted Arthur on the shoulder giving Merlin a strong hug afterwards.

"Didn't think we'd leave you here, did you?" Arthur asked with a wide grin. "Where are the others?"

"They're... scattered around," he answered with a grimace.

"Gwaine?" she questioned hopefully, thinking back on the witty knight.

Percival shrugged, face dropping when he looked at her expectant face. "Saw him a couple of days ago, but..."

"See if you can use it to find some more," Arthur ordered, handing him his broadsword with a stiff, quick smile.

"Arthur," her hands tugged on the bottom of his tunic as she noticed a few Saxons in the distance heading their way, whipping and spitting orders at the slaves. He nodded, and squeezed Percival's shoulders.

"Do what you can to free the others," he announced abruptly, "We'll find Gwaine."

Percival gave them a hurried nod and they both ran off without another word.

* * *

Merlin never expected to see Aithusa again. Not like this at least.

After finally finding Gwaine deep within the caves, guarded by strange creature that practically _reeked_ of power and wisdom, they moved out to find Percival and the rest of the knights. It was then when they heard a roar of a dragon as it proceeded to chase them down and attack them.

She knew that Arthur was not pleased with her running off again, but the odd feeling of familiarity made Merlin go after the dragon after they managed to evade it.

It did not take long to find it, and the realisation who the dragon was came shortly after.

Aithusa was once beautiful and healthy with strong muscle and strong limbs, but now there was nothing but a shadow left. The once stunning creature was now horribly deformed, mutilated by something, whether it was loss of food or perhaps torture.

Merlin felt like her heart was about to crawl up her throat as tears stung her vision. Aithusa had always been _hers._ But what was she doing with Morgana of all people, and more importantly what had she done to her beloved dragon?

"_Aithusa_," she croaked, her voice slightly hoarse.

The dragon bowed her head low, her damaged and ragged claws digging into the earth when with a snarl she breathed fire at Merlin who deflected it easily.

"_Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai_!

Aithusa instantly backed away, whimpering softly at its true master's order. To a dragon, Dragontamer's command was law, and the dragon backed away submissively, accepting defeat. "_What happened?_ Who did this to you?"

Aithusa raised her head before a series of grumbles seem to fill the air, it was almost as she was trying to reply but couldn't do it. Kilgharrah spoke perfect English, his words smooth and clear, but Aithusa's words were jumbled and incoherent.

"What does that mean?" she whispered, moving slightly in front as if to touch the dragon, but Aithusa shook her head edging backwards. "You can't speak," she muttered in realisation.

"Merlin!"

Merlin jerked her head to the right, hearing Arthur's shout in the distance. She quickly glanced back at Aithusa who was looking in the same direction then back at her.

"Go!" she ordered hurriedly. She didn't want to leave her dragon, but there was nothing she could do right now. Aithusa made a sound again, shaking her head in refusal. She was clearly trying to tell her something, but she didn't have enough time to hear the dragon out. "_Ithi_!"

Aithusa ran away, leaving a shaken Merlin behind. The idea of someone torturing such a majestic creature made Merlin feel sick. Was it Morgana's fault, she wondered. Had she tortured Aithusa into submission?

Finally composing herself, Merlin jumped to her feet realising that there was no way to know for sure just yet. Instead she hurried to find Arthur.

He clearly didn't listen to her like always, choosing to ignore her orders and do whatever he saw fit.

She searched seemingly endlessly for him, not finding a single trance of his whereabouts. Just when worry began flooding her system, she heard voices ahead. "What happened to you, Morgana? As a child, you were so kind, so compassionate..."

"_I grew up."_

A small gasp escaped Merlin's lips as she dashed forward, following the sound of voices.

"You are right to cower before my hand," she heard Morgana say smugly, "I am more powerful than you can imagine."

"And yet with all that, you choose to do nothing but hate!"

"Uther taught me well," Morgana's voice flowed like poisoned nectar, soft yet deadly. "Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin gasped for air, her lungs burning as she screamed, "_Arthur!_"

She could feel Morgana's dark and twisted magic ahead – and much to her surprise, Mordred's warm and welcoming magic as well – as it filled her lungs with each breath she took. She hoped that her scream would distract Morgana long enough for her to get there.

Merlin flew into the chamber they all stood, but before she could do anything, she was thrown back by an invisible force, causing her to sail through the air and crash painfully against the stone wall.

She slumped against the rock, her vision blurring and ears buzzing as she tried to regain her senses.

Then, she felt something. There was a burst of emotion that suddenly assaulted her senses, making her let out a low whine as she clenched her teeth together.

It was so _strong;_ different emotions wrapping around her like second skin, momentarily choking her. They were so vigorous, so blinding, Merlin collapsed back onto the rock, clutching at her chest.

She could only pick out two emotions from the mix, two that were the strongest:

_Anger and Hate_.

"Morgana…_Please_…"

"Don't speak, _dear brother_," she mocked. "It's too late. _Hine–_" she suddenly stopped mid-word, letting out a pained cry.

The overwhelming feeling of emotions was suddenly gone, allowing Merlin to take a much-needed breath of air and see what was happing in front of her.

Mordred stood behind Morgana, a solemn kind of determination on his face, the same dagger she saw him putting on his belt this morning now stuck in Morgan's back as she turned to look into his blazing eyes. "Mordred?"

Mordred pulled the dagger out and left Morgana to collapse on the ground, defenceless.

He didn't look at her, only wrapped Arthur's arm around his shoulder and helped him out of the cave, even though Merlin could feel his magic soothing her long after he was gone. She groaned and weakly tried to call out to him, but not a sound left her parched mouth. Admitting defeat to herself, she returned to the rock and rest against it, her breathing going back to normal. Morgana was but a few feet away, though she did not move once.

After a while, Merlin took a gasping breath, and tried to push herself up with her hands, but found her strength diminished by the blow she gained from smashing her head against the cold stone.

With that, she closed her eyes, and with a weak whimper, allowed darkness to take over completely.

* * *

**AN:** Y_eah... that wasn't very good, was it? My apologies. I admit that I wrote this one go, simply because I'm going to be so busy the next few days, so I won't be able to update. The next chapter is going to be the final part of Arthur's Bane Part II, before we move onto third episode that's going to be just a bit different! ;)_

_Also as per usual, thank you very much for the lovely feedback, everyone! I love hearing from you guys, it warms my heart each time I see a new review. ^^_

_A special shout out to:_

**Osireia**: _My dear, you are SO perspective! You manage to spot ALL the little hints I drop whether they're intentional or not. It also makes me feel like you read the entire "chapter" as in all of my ANs as well, which is important because while I like to babble, I also often leave hints about the future and plans for this story, so thank you very much for spotting them! _

**Lady Slytherin of Camelot**: _Thank you very much for the lovely reviews you always leave me! And I'm sure "Merlin" and I can have a talk and arrange something about letting you have Mordred/Alexander for few days! ^^ Also, please, don't be disheartened when I said I won't rush romance. Since, while that may be true, that doesn't mean you won't get plenty of *ehem* compromising scenes as well as some sexual tension between those two. In fact, it's my personal goal to make you all squirm with tension each time they have a scene together. xD_

_**Next Chapter:** We Lie Best When We Lie to Ourselves_ **-** Mordred's POV (_yay_!), journey back to Camelot, Mordred's knighting ceremony, as well as a super, duper, magically-special, amazing and-every-other-positive-and-exciting-adjective-in-the-dictionary Merlin/Mordred scene.

_Regards._

**A. **


End file.
